I woke before dawn and found Dylan already sitting by the window, watching the dark garden as if listening for something only he could hear.
“You’re up early,” I said softly.
He turned his head. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” I pulled a robe around my shoulders and walked over. “What are you listening for?”
“Nothing in particular.” His voice was quiet. “Sometimes the silence feels louder than it used to. I end up paying attention to it.”
I sat in the chair beside him. The garden was only shapes and shadows. “Does it bother you?”
“Not exactly. It just reminds me how much time has passed. How many mornings we almost didn’t get.”
I reached for his hand. “We’re still getting them.”
“I know.” He laced his fingers with mine. “That’s why I sit here. To make sure I don’t take the
